


Disquiet

by unwindmyself



Series: curious shapes shift in the dark [6]
Category: True Blood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fix-It, Gen, Reconnaissance, agency and choices!, canon-typical bigotry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindmyself/pseuds/unwindmyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, spying on a certain alleged vampire god's house is the best idea any of them have so far, it might as well be done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disquiet

**Author's Note:**

> Part three, "Down With the Shine."

“Thanks for saddling us with the shittiest recon mission ever,” Tara grumbles after maybe an hour of sitting and waiting.

“Least we didn’t have to drag the little princess along,” Pam deadpans.

“What’d Jess ever do to you to make you so hard on her?” Tara interrupts, tilting her head.  “She’s kinda chipper sometimes, but she’s not so bad.”

“When Bill first turned her, he couldn’t take the pressure of bein’ a daddy,” Pam explains.  “Eric and I got stuck as stepparents till he could handle it a little more.  Or till we couldn’t handle it anymore.  And trust me, you aren’t half the pain in the ass she was as a newborn.”

“Was there another compliment hidden in there somewhere?” Tara asks.

Pam bites her lips together in that trying-not-to-smile way Tara’s gotten familiar with quick.  “I learned a couple things in those few weeks,” she continues.  “One, Bill Compton is a shitty fuckin’ excuse for a Maker.  Two, I am not cut out to live with teenagers.”

“I’m pretty sure Bill Compton is a shitty fuckin’ excuse for anything,” Tara drawls.  “Maker, boyfriend, god… thing.  Speaking of which, if he’s a god now, why is it we’re expecting him to come back and set up camp at the old homestead?”

“He’s always been lame,” Pam shrugs.  “I don’t expect any maniacal divinity he’s hosting to change that.”

Tara makes a face, but there’s really not much more to say.  She’s still convinced that this is a stupid plan all around: they had to borrow Ginger’s car, for goodness’ sake, and now they’re sitting in the dark by the cemetery, just hoping to catch a glimpse of something (she’s still not quite sure what) on the grounds of Bill’s mini-mansion.

Never mind that if Bill’s a god, he’d probably realize they were out here, and a shitty sedan wouldn’t protect them if the evil god did notice them, and they _definitely_ wouldn’t know how to deal with him if they had to.

And especially never mind that no self-respecting vampire goes _parking_ , and that’s totally what it would look like they’re doing to an outside observer.

“Far as I’m concerned, the second we catch a light in the damn window, we split,” Pam declares.  “All we have to do is confirm he’s even here, so once we get that done…”

Tara raises an eyebrow.  “What?” she asks, though she thinks she knows.

“I think we’re still due for a date,” Pam murmurs, her voice going low.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“And we’re vampires.”

“And if not even Fangtasia’s open, what do you think that says about the rest of the vampire nightlife?”

“Fangtasia’s really more for humans, and anyway, who said anything about nightlife?” Pam asks, letting her tone turn schmaltzy.  “We don’t need something fancy, baby, I’m happy just bein’ with you.”

“Liar,” Tara retorts, thwacking Pam in the arm.  “Even your track suits are fancy.  If we’re goin’ on a real date, it’s gonna be something swanky or I know I’m not hearin’ the end of it.”

“ _Swanky_?” Pam echoes, laughing.  “I’m pretty sure nobody’s said that since Prohibition.  And I thought I was supposed to be the one out of her era.”

Tara looks about to say something, but she gets distracted seeing out of the corner of her eye, then mutters, “Fuckin’ kiss me.”

“What?” Pam laughs.  “I didn’t realize you got to order me around.”

“Shut up and do it,” Tara says, pulling the blonde close in a hurry.

It doesn’t take long for them to get into it, Pam cupping Tara’s face, Tara winding fingers through Pam’s hair and tugging, but within moments there’s a rapping on the passenger window.

“Go ‘way,” Pam mumbles petulantly, understanding the ruse, but soon enough they disentangle, and she can’t help but add “Just perfect” when she sees it’s none other than Officer Jason Stackhouse outside.

“Y’all are loitering,” he declares before the window’s all the way rolled down.

When it is, he’s got a pair of very unamused vampires staring at him.  “Hello to you too,” Tara mutters.

“Oh,” is all he says to that.  (Pam makes a mental note to ask her progeny later if he always looks like he’s smelled something bad when he’s trying to be serious.)  “You’re gonna need to go on back to your fanger club, or your hidey-holes, or your whatever the heck –”

“Have you always been an insufferable racist and I’ve just been too bored to notice?” Pam interrupts.

“There hasn’t been anything strange goin’ on at Bill’s place?” Tara asks Jason quickly.

“Strange how?” Jason returns.

“Violence, mayhem, the usual evil god stuff,” Pam says, sounding remarkably blasé.

“Anything, actually,” Tara corrects.  “We’re just trying to figure out if he’s there.”

“Look, I got other things to worry about,” Jason says.  “Real cop stuff, not just vamper drama.”

“This isn’t just gonna hurt us,” Tara near-shouts.  “He wants to make the world into his own personal cattle ranch, and guess who the cows are gonna be?”

“He ain’t gonna get a chance,” Jason declares.  “He gets half-close to me and I’m gonna blast him with all the silver bullets I got on me.”

“Even you aren’t that stupid,” Pam cuts in.  “Miss Goody-Two-Shoes is still figurin’ out what _will_ , but I’m pretty sure we’re clear that a few bullets won’t kill that dick.”

“He’s a bloodsucker like any of y’all,” Jason insists.  “Why’s he any different?”

“He’s a motherfuckin’ demon god,” Tara hisses.  “But if all you’re gonna be spoutin’ is this bigoted _bullshit_ , I don’t think we have time to waste on you, Jason Stackhouse.  I’m pretty sure I didn’t ask for this, and I wasn’t too thrilled about it, but here I am, and yeah, I’m a fuckin’ vampire.  But I’m still the same I ever was.”

Jason’s expression changes just slightly (Pam can’t tell if he’s contemplative, apologetic, or just confused) and he starts to say, “Yeah, well –”

“Well, nothin’,” Tara interrupts.  “You’ve known me long enough to know I ain’t gonna sit here listenin’ to you be a narrow-minded asshole, especially not when _we_ got other stuff to do too, important stuff that might just save your life.”

“Tara,” Pam says.  “Honey, not right now.”

Tara rolls her eyes at her Maker.  “You can’t tell me you like sittin’ here listening to him go on.”

“After a hundred years, I’m kinda used to it,” Pam shrugs.  “And I’ve heard much worse.  But that ain’t the point here.”  She nods in the direction of the estate.  “There’s somethin’ there.”

“Where,” Jason exclaims, jumping back and drawing his gun.

“Over at Compton’s,” Pam says.  “Get out of the way so we can all see.”

Sure enough, the front door is open and the light is on in the entry.  They can make out a few figures – none of them look all bloody and naked like Billith apparently is or was – and whoever they are, they have boxes, impossibly tall stacks of boxes.

“Vampires,” Jason mutters.

“No, the vampire supremacist just went and hired a team of human bodybuilders,” Pam snaps.

“He coulda glamoured ‘em,” Jason counters.

“He’s fuckin’ crazy,” Pam retorts.  “And if he’d wasted his time doin’ that with people he’d just as soon make into dinner, he’s stupider than I thought.”

“Will both of y’all shut up,” Tara hisses.  “He ain’t here, he’s holin’ up somewhere else, just stop yelling before you make a scene.” 

“Bring it,” Jason shouts, cocking his gun.  “I ain’t scared.”

Three of the moving crew turn to look in their direction, causing Pam to mutter, “Fuck.  Get in.”

“What, I can take ‘em,” Jason declares, even as the vampires start to rush forward.

“Jason Stackhouse, get in the fuckin’ car,” Tara about shouts, unlocking the door for him and gunning the engine.


End file.
